Tag: Talking shop

I work Saturdays in a shop on H____ Road in Hull. Let’s call the shop Oddbury’s. Every Saturday I write down the funny things I hear. These are real conversations with real people about the things they’re buying and what they mean to them. Names have been changed to protect people’s identities. Paul is my co – worker.

Neither Paul nor Jim move a muscle. Jim is leaning on the counter and rolling a cigarette. He glances at Paul. Paul is meticulously rearranging boxes of cigarette papers on the counter so that they are all stacked neatly. He glances at Jim. They both glance at me.

After wrestling the boxes through the doorway they are placed in front of the counter. Assi sits down on one of them and dabs his brow with a handkerchief. He is of indeterminate age but on one of his birth certificates it says that he was born in 1969.

Assi: Got some quality stuff to go out Paul.

Paul: Did you get any mouse traps off that guy?

Assi: No. No mouse traps.

Paul: Tsk! I told you Assi. There’s an infestation of mice down here at the moment. People are coming in every day asking for mouse traps. I promised that woman with the three legged cat that I’d get her some.

Assi: Who was that?

Paul: That woman whose cat had to have it’s back leg amputated. It can’t keep up with the mice anymore.

Assi: No, I didn’t get any today cos the thing is the guy who I know who gets me the mouse traps was in Leeds today so I’ve phoned him but then he didn’t phone me back but I spoke to his brother but his brother works out at Huddersfield but he’s in Leeds so you know, so you know… so no. but I got these instead:

He opens one of the boxes with a pen – knife and folds back the lid.

Assi: Thomas the Tank Engine innit?!

He hands around boxes containing models of small, blue plastic trains. The trains are blue but that is their only resemblance to Thomas the Tank Engine. It’s face looks more like someone has painted a picture of Edwina Curry on the front of a train.

Paul: Well that’s not gonna kill a fucking mouse.

Assi: What? No, these is for the kids train sets you know? They love it all this Thomas and the Tank Engine and all that. My little niece, she’s always watchin’ it on the telly.

Jim: Here – have you seen this? What does that say?

He hands one of the boxes to Assi and indicates the writing on it.

Assi: (squinting) I ain’t got no glasses with me today. Had to drive back from Goole at about ten mile an hour ‘cos I couldn’t see the friggin’ road. Track train or something… here Paul… read this.

Anka enters the shop. Jim directs his singing at her and she hurries out of his way.

Assi opens the second box and pulls out a statuette of a man with black hair and a thick mustache. The figure is wearing a dinner jacket and bow tie. There is nothing to indicate that it is a statue of Freddy Mercury. It could be any man with black hair and a mustache.

Assi: (to me) Ludo, can we clear a space for these? Somewhere prominent you know? Maybe clear out some of these dog foods and stuff and have them here near the counter innit, where people can see them?

Paul: I thought you said these were Freddy Mercury? Looks more like Cliff Thorburn.

Jim: Who the snooker player? (Taking the figure from Assi and inspecting it) it’s got some writing on the bottom but it’s in foreign.

Paul: You couldn’t read it if it was in English!

Jim: That’s true… Looks more like Magnum P.I. though than Freddy Mercury.

Paul: Tom Selleck…

Jim: No, he was a cop in America, called Magnum. Don’t know what the P. and the I stood for. Phil or Pat probably… I mean, we’re going back a bit…

Paul: He was played by Tom Selleck! (Under his breath): God this is like working in a fucking old folks home.

Assi: Nah, the guy who sold me ’em told me it was Freddy Mercury. Looks a bit like Tom Selleck but it’s actually Freddy Mercury. Says so on the bottom innit?

Paul: But it’s written in Polish or something…

Assi: Yeah, it says Freddy Mercury statue. The guy told me.

Anka approaches the counter. She looks at the statue and points at it. She says something in a foreign language.

Jim: My sentiments entirely my darling. What beautiful eyes you have.

Anka says something to Jim.

Jim: You Polish?

Anka nods.

He shows her the base of the statue. She nods and laughs.

Anka (holding up one figure): One.

Assi: One of these? (To Jim and Paul): see what did I tell you? The Polish love Freddy Mercury.

Paul: Do they?

Assi: What are you talking about? Queen! One of the biggest bands in Poland! Wait ’till she tells her friends about these. They’ll all be putting them on the… what’s that thing called above the fire…

Paul: They’ll be putting them on the fire.

Jim: The mantelpiece.

Assi: They’ll all have them on the mantelpiece! (To Anka he exclaims loudly) No Polish home is complete without a statue of Freddy Mercury. Isn’t that right lovie?

She is a bit startled but shows him the base of the statue and says something in Polish.

Assi: Speaking very slowly and a bit too loudly): Top quality. Royal Dolchester – top brand. Royal! By appointment to the royalty. Prince Charles has got a couple of these. Do you know Prince Charles? (He puts his fingers behind his ears so that they stick out).

Anka looks very puzzled.

After much sign language and use of google translator it is determined that the statues are actually of a Nobel Prize winning Polish politician called Lech Wałęsa.

Anka says of her purchase: I will give it to my husband as a joke. It is so bad.

Says Assi: We can just put a sticker over the bottom innit? People won’t know any different. Just say it’s Freddy Mercury. Or Cliff Thorburn. Depends which one sells better. Some people are into snooker. Some people like music. Some people like both! They’ll probably buy two innit?

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I work Saturdays in a shop on H____ Road in Hull. Let’s call the shop Oddbury’s. Every Saturday I write down the funny things I hear. These are real conversations with real people about the things they’re buying and what they mean to them. Names have been changed to protect people’s identities. Paul is my co – worker.

Paul: Those are good ones. I use those. You can’t go wrong for a pound with those.

Trish: I’ve had these before, to do my legs. Cut me to ribbons they did. I looked like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre betime I’d finished. Still, they’re not for me – they’re for him (jabbing a thumb at Aaron).

Paul: Oh right.

Trish: Yeah. He needs to sort his hair out, don’t you?

Aaron is dressed in a track suit. He is much taller than Trish. At about 6ft tall he towers over his mother who approaches the height of her son’s shoulder. He is wearing a beanie hat and has his hood up so we can’t see what’s wrong with his hair.

Aaron: Grunts and gazes up at the ceiling.

Trish: I said don’t you?

Aaron: Ignores her and carries on staring at the ceiling.

Trish: (Shouting) Honestly, I have had it up to here with him. He’s been suspended from school haven’t you? I said haven’t you? Tell the man why.

Before giving Aaron a chance to respond she continues…

Because of his hair cut, that’s why! Monday, I gets a phone call from the school. Can I go and pick him up? Can I hell like. What’s up I say? He’s got an extreme hair cut. I says, what the hell are you talking about? I mean, I don’t call a short back and sides extreme. I mean, he puts gel in it but what lad his age doesn’t these days?

Jim: They look like Elvis with these quiffs these young lads that I see around. That’s a throw back to when I was young. If I still had hair… (he motions to Aaron) … I say, if I still had hair…

Aaron completely ignores him and Trish takes up the baton again…

Trish: Well this assistant head, I’ve spoken to him before – last time he got suspended – Oh, it’s not the first time, is it? I said is it?

Aaron ignores her.

Trish: No it’s not (she answers here own question). Tell them what you got suspended for last time. Go on.

Aaron ignores her.

Trish: Well I’ll tell them. It was that, what was it?

Aaron: Jesus Army…

Trish: What? What did you say? You are a SARKY. LITTLE. BASTARD.

Aaron: You asked me!

Trish: It was this religious thing that they were having in assembly. What was it?

Aaron: (Infuriated)I just said! The Jesus Army.

Trish: Don’t you give me any of that backchat you SARCASTIC. LITTLE… you are a sarcastic little bastard and one day that tongue of yours is going to… Anyway, what was it? This religious organisation, I’ve no idea who they are. I mean, me and Aaron, we’re not particularly religious are we? I mean, I believe in God but I don’t particularly want it shoved down my throat and I don’t want it shoved down my son’s either so I’m happy for him to express his opinion but, tell them what you said.

She doesn’t wait

Trish: I’ll tell them. Well one of them, these

Aaron: Jesus Army

Trish: Blokes is up there on stage talking away in front of the whole school…

Aaron: Year 10

Trish: Or whatever, talking about God and what not, and the Assistant Head, the one I spoke to, he did tell me on the phone that this fella had a look of Jesus but I mean, that’s no excuse, and our Aaron’s got up – stood up, in front of the whole school…

Aaron: Year 10.

Trish: And shouted – ‘Get back on the cross Jesus!’

There is a stunned silence.

Paul: What did he get suspended for this time?

Trish: Well, let me get back to where I am… Where was I?

Jim: His hair, you were on the phone to the Head.

Trish: (causticaly) It was the Assistant Head. The Head won’t speak to me. Anyway… yeah, he’s said, (adopts a ‘posh’ voice) ‘well Mrs Rankin, he might have left home with a short back and sides but that is most definitely not what he has turned up at the school gates with.’

Pauses for effect. Now everyone is staring at Aaron who is smirking ever so slightly.

Trish: Well, when he got home… tell them… tell them what you’ve got…He’s only gone and got the German flag shaved into his head. The German bloody flag!

Jim: It’s all this Dutch Land ’93. They’re all into. My daughter is. It’s one of these foreign things on telly.

Paul: (Lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes) Deutschland ’83. 1983, not ’93.

Jim: It’s quite good actually. A fair bit of shagging in it.

Aaron: Let’s out a suppressed laugh.

Trish: (exploding at her son. This provocation is more than her nerves can take.) YOU LOOK – LIKE A. FUCKING. IDIOT!

Aaron: Alright…

Trish: No! It is very much not alright! And you are going to shave that stupid bloody thing off your head as soon as we get home.

Aaron: I’m allowed to express an opinion.

Jim: Oh aye? Which opinion are you expressing at the moment. You look like a Rastafarian with that hat on. Show us what you got…

Trish: NO! Do not encourage him… it’s more than my nerves…

Aaron whips off the hat defiantly and glares, shaking with rage, at his mother. His head is shaved to the skin apart from where he has left unshaven, standing proud, in thick, jet – black hair, the shape of an enormous swastika.

Jim and Paul burst into hysterical laughter, falling around on the counter. There are tears rolling down their cheeks.

Aaron storms out of the shop and shouts, ‘fuck off!’ after him.

Says Trish of her purchase: I’m still buying these. I’ll hold him down and shave his fucking head myself if I’ve got to. ‘Cos I tell you. I will not tolerate it. I will not tolerate him lying in bed at home for another week fiddling with his bits while he’s watching Jeremy Kyle. He can get his head shaved and fuck off from under my feet back to that bloody school where he belongs.

Overheard anything funny lately? Please share it with us below. It’s more fun when you play along at home!